Shambles
by Notorious Introvert
Summary: Just a peek into the relationship between 2P!Canada and 2P!France.


Disclaimer; I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers.

Summary; Just a peek into the relationship between 2P!Canada and 2P!France, as I believe it may be. Loosely based off of a brief roleplay between a Canada and I. I may or may not add more chapters later.

Jackson - 2P!Canada  
Austin - 2P!America  
Theo - 2P!France  
Oliver - 2P!England

His knuckles were red with irritation, and his lank hair appeared darker than usual with the layer of soot covering it. Unfriendly eyes sported the dull pink of dryness. Theo noted every detail of his reflection as he stared into the ridiculously grand mirror of his main restroom, though it wasn't in vanity as his flamboyant counterpart might been using the fine glass for; no, the Frenchman was keeping sure that he held not a trace of blood across his features. Some days were simply more restless than others, and he couldn't very well be sure of the reason he may have been splattered with rubies. Perhaps his dirtied hair was a hint. It'd slipped from his mind already.

Jackson loomed about the doorway, his sharp eyes intensely gazing at the French bastard that had more neglected than raised him as his small time of being his colony. The Canadian didn't attempt to mask his steps as he advanced. There was no point of ever even trying to sneak on Theo; the man had a sense for these things, it sometimes seemed to the younger man, and he'd more likely than not take the light treading as a challenge. "Hey," Jackson barked. "Man, I gotta take a piss." When no reply was immediately given, the physically younger teen simply scoffed and invited himself to the toilet. Fuck his old man. If he wanted to be a pervert and listen, then that was no one's business but his own.

"...I had no plans to be in your way," Theo finally spat back, a sneer decorating his lips as his form disregarded the hinted demand of leaving. As he was still planted in front of the reflecting tool, the man took his chance to check himself over once more. The same thin build (achieved by lack of appropriate nourishment), sickly pale flesh, bruised areas beneath his eyes, bloodshot expression. But there were still no red streaks. "Boy. Has Oliver come today or not?" he asked slowly.

Casting a glance towards the other as he finished up his business, the younger blond curled his lips in a duplicate of Theo's sneer. "The fuck if I know if your little boy-toy's been around." Tucking himself back in and zipping up, Jackson stood by the other at the sink. The Frenchman, as he could have predicted, didn't bother to even acknowledge that he had spoken, appearing to be lost in the eyes of his mirror-self. "Want to move your STD ridden ass out of my way? Not all of us can enjoy smelling like piss." He had to reach around his parental figure to clean his hands, doing his best to not as much as touch the shorter man. It wasn't difficult to know that the smallest things could set Theo off, and a battle with two broken arms wasn't in his dreamt future.

"Now, now," the elder man drawled, roaming his eyes into the mirror before he captured Jackson's own reflecting gaze that wasn't hidden behind sunglasses for once. "You know that Oliver would never appreciate those dirty words coming from such a pretty mouth." Cackling as he saw how the Canadian's face tightened with fury, Theo pulled a crumpled cigarette out of his pocket and lit up. "You should always know who has been near your territory, Boy." Moving to shove Jackson out of his way, the Frenchman noted that he dodged much better than last time. At least he was improving, and all that training wasn't put to waste. "Yeah, whatever." The shorter turned his face and blew his exhale into his companion's face, both of them standing stoically as the white fumes curled around their faces. It was Jackson who broke the stare-down first, baring his teeth and flickering his gaze towards the cigarette.

Theo scoffed back and made his exit, slender legs guiding him towards the kitchen to check for traces of the Brit that happily invaded his home so often. If the freckled-man had not bothered to show, it appeared that food was not in the near future. He honestly wasn't concerned about not having anything to fill his stomach, but he didn't want to leave the house if they were out of milk again. The European opened his fridge door and glared inside, disgusted by the amount of sweets and desserts that they had been plagued with. Those had to go before they attracted something in, like a wild Germany. Jackson swaggered out after him, plopping ungracefully in a chair that looked like it could collapse at any moment. "So." The youth rested his chin on top of his folded hands, low ponytail slipping out of it's band to instead hand limply.

With no need to reply to the other, the elder took one last drag from his cigarette before it burnt his fingers. Using one of the many potted plants that Oliver had brought over on previous occassions, Theo stubbed out his smoke. The dead thing was pitible in his eyes. Jackson exhaled loudly through his nostrils, slipping his customary aviators over his eyes to darken the already heavily-curtained household. "Hey, old man. I'm talking to you." The French male continued his visual search for the milk they should have had, taking his sweet time before speaking. "You say you speak, yet I hear no words. Have you forgotten them already?" Cheeks dusted pink with some rage and embarrassment, the youthful blond made a noise of disgust. "Whatever."

The Canadian man began to lean back in his chair, glaring at the ceiling from behind his sunglasses. "Austin hates you." A weak comment, he knew, but it was something to say. Too much quiet really grated on Jackson's nerves; too much quiet could do things for his mental state. Having a parent like Theo didn't help at all; the French asshat only spoke when he needed to, and even then it was hardly anything above a grumble. Here Theo was now, taking a long moment before replying. "Austin hates everyone."

"I hate you."

"You hate everybody."

"Nobody loves you."

"I do not love."

"Oliver stalks you."

"He is not here now."

"You don't know that."

"Don't I?"

Jackson growled with frustration, overestimating the value of his rickety chair as he leant even farther back. A wooden leg cracked, sending the pony-tailed blond crashing to the ground painfully. His mouth went red at the corners, hidden eyes burning a hole at his guardian's back. It wasn't as though he expected Theo to baby him(not like that pussy Matthieu and his incest-prone perv of a father), but he wasn't even granted acknowledgement. He was actually disregarded for a dirty fridge filled with stale desserts.

"Such grace amazes me each time. Perhaps I should have made you a ballerina." Theo's voice dripped with sarcasm as he belatedly turned to sneer down at Jackson, heavy eyes lidded. Of course, this infuriated the teenager. Lifting up the splintered ruins of his chair, the hot-tempered youth charged at his parent. "How about I shove this right up you- Fuck!" The Frenchman had swiftly turned and crouched somewhat, grabbing the raging mess that was Jackson and flipping him over a shoulder. The Canadian crashed against their sink of dirty dishes, breaking more than a few as he stuggled to find stable ground by clutching the sink. This only succeeded in making more porcelain fall, and he fell on his backside anyway.

"Pitiful. Did you truly believe you would get away with that?" The Frenchman's voice held nothing but disgust for the younger blond. He bent to pick up the ruined chair that had flown from Jackson's grip, tossing it to some dim corner of their kitchen. "Training you was nothing but a waste of my life." The North American stood, glaring at his father as Theo ranted about him. "...worse than Austin at times...training extended...should send to Oliver..."

Just another peachy day of bonding.

A/N; I didn't expect to create this, so it's not terribly long. The ending is very abrupt, I know. Let's see if I do something with this. Reviews are appreciated.


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